Retrograde
by suparizona
Summary: I look at you like you're everything I'll ever regret. I picture us in the past and all I hear is the last thing you said. You broke my heart in a million different ways.
1. Prologue

deleted my old fic because i lost inspiration (big surprise). but i can honestly say i have this thought out, the whole plot. when i have no idea where to go with a story i always end up lost, so here's to me being wiser and actually thinking it through. chapters will lengthen, this is just a taste. also, my bella's are never kristen and my edward's are always strictly the original twilight edward.

much thanks to james blake for the inspiration.

enjoy!

* * *

At 3 am, he's sprawled on my bathroom floor, cheek glued to my thigh and the proximity is too much for my resolve.

He staggered in with bleeding knuckles and I called him a piece of shit and then I was squelched in a corner with his words sledging into me, sharp and quick.

I want to hate him.

"M'gonna be sick again," he moans, eyes clenched shut and brows furrowed.

I don't say anything.

His fingers find the hem of my pyjama bottoms, tugging uselessly, like a weak child's attempt to capture my attention. "_Donbe mad_," he garbles.

Sometimes he is a weak child. "I'm not."

"Mmm."

"Shut up."

"Called you, like, _five_ times," he adds.

I change the subject. "You not feeling sick anymore?"

"Nah," he says, sad smile and crazed eyes and all. "No. You?"

"You're the drunk one," I say quietly.

We lapse into a silence, and it's almost peaceful. Besides his unwavering gaze and drunk eyes boring into me and pinkie running down my foot, tracing my toe.

"That tickles," I mumble.

He's still studying me. Then, "Why'd you let me in?"

Everything in the room is suddenly serious and my stomach turns and I feel like there will never be a reason for anything I do for this boy.

"This and every other time." And with a laugh, "Can't really hate a person who already hates themselves this much…."

It's my attempt at humouring the situation.

"But you like me."

"Edward."

"Yeah?"

"That's a stupid question."

He smiles at me.

I ache.

"Okay," he says.


	2. Late

first chapter! contains drug use, swearing, and a lot of ridiculous things that gain meaning later on in the story. especially edward.

i don't own anything.

_(song: late, kanye west)_

* * *

**o n e**

* * *

Jared works at the Diner with me. It's his uncles diner, so his spot was already sealed the minute this place went in business.

His job mainly consists of making me keep tabs on his tables and chastising me for doing his job poorly which pisses me off to no extent, but after getting fired from my previous three jobs, it's pretty much the only option left for me.

It's an unruly battle between us arguing over who serves booth seven, but he and I both know I've seen a couple things he shouldn't have been brave enough to show me. Just a simple tug of his pants and I was howling with laughter on my knees, piss-drunk and out of my mind, enough to make him shove me into a wall and tell me my ass wasn't the real-deal, either. So I guess he's slightly less demanding nowadays.

But today, Jared's flirting with this chick from Canada with huge boobs and a black braid. The minute he lays eyes on her Wu-Tang shirt, he's practically salivating over her very presence, and grants me with the privilege of serving one of his tables.

And yeah, I'm in so much fucking luck this time.

Stoners.

Cute ones from school, with Vans and skateboards and cigarette stained lips and sly smiles.

My heart tells me to find the nearest gun and empty it into my head, but my feet drag me to them. The only motive I have today is the fact that I've gone push-up and my boobs are peculiarly tanned after two weeks spent in Vancouver with Kate.

Liam Newton asks if we still serve breakfast, Paul O'Connell declines a menu and orders cheese fries, Riley Biers can barely open his eyes, and then there's him.

He's looming and ragged and so hot, disarray of hair damp and dark and soaked from the rain and the smallest smile ghosting his lips, like, _I'm so fucking high_.

I want him in both moments of intrigue and insecurity.

Paul recognizes me off-the-bat, grinning from ear to ear. "Bella, right?"

They're all staring at me in a daze and it's actually kind of_ funny_ how high they are.

I nod, smiling. "Yeah."

"Garrett was right," he mumbles, then shoves his friend. "Edward, yo, order something."

Edward's looking at me with an amused smile.

"Right about what?" I try to stay nonchalant, nodding at Riley's order for the both of them.

They all hand me their menus, slowly. Riley's cracking up at Edward who can't fold it back properly and Paul just dismisses me with, "Guy talk."

Serving their table earns me three trips to the washroom to fix any flaw visible.

My eyebrows aren't plucked, I have a pimple underneath my nose, I smell like grease, and my lips are immensely chapped. And yeah, shit happens, but it sticks around when I least need it.

Rounding their table every time for earns me compliments on how much they adore my hair up and how I should spend lunch with them sometime when school starts. Paul professes his love for my music taste and vows to see me riding his skateboard someday soon.

"Any girl who fucks with Hendrix can fuck with me."

"Who fucks with Hendrix?" Liam asks, mouthful of pancakes.

I refill Edward's water. Paul nods at me.

Liam's eyes light up. "_Dude_," he says, poking my arm. "You should totally come blaze with us tomorrow."

I'm kind of surprised. Skaters always have strict crews and overpriced weed. "Me?"

"_Bella_," Paul says.

"Yeah?"

"You're a total babe."

"That listens to awesome music," Riley adds.

"That listens to awesome music," Paul parrots.

"Bella is a babe that listens to awesome music…" Liam tests it out, frowning.

"Still not alliteration," Edward says, flicking a blueberry off of Liam's plate.

"You're on drugs." Liam scowls. "Dude, how was that _not_ alliteration? Seriously."

"We're all on drugs," Edward quips.

A chorus of _fucking idiot_ and _dumbass_ rise and in that moment I feel like I belong somewhere other than in front of my mirror sucking my stomach in and pelting my mind with overbearing shit. Maybe even with a group of immature boys who flirt with younger girls and snort coke off their wrists before first period.

Jared shoves my shoulder as he passes by, a little too fucking hard. I stagger to the side with a curse and he's all, "Table six, table twelve," and I'm all, "_I know_," and Paul's all, "Kid better watch the way he touches girls."

Jared hears, obviously. He pivots around, his face taut and eyes narrowed.

It's so comical, I have to blow my cheeks out to suppress my laughter.

To think I'd almost blown the guy.

"What?" he asks.

Paul's smiling. "Hey."

"Got something to say?"

Edward speaks up. "You're kinda rough with your fellow employee's." He keeps his eyes trained on Jared.

Jared's lips press into a thin line. Paul's still all smiles. "And, yeah, that's what I said."

"_Yeeeaah_," Liam says. "That's what he said."

"_Yeaaaaah,_" Edward laughs, bumping fists with him.

Boys.

I can't contain my laughter any longer and Jared just strides away, yelling at me over his shoulder.

"Table six, table twelve."

* * *

Heidi's dad is in love with my mom. Phil Fisher is a fucking thirty-seven year old lawyer that looks up to Atticus Finch and yells at Heidi when she doesn't have Maury recorded and a pack-a-day kind of guy. I think he's even sent Mom emails describing his fantasies of them riding the Ferris Wheel on Coney Island to dancing to Chuck Berry in a diner with copious amounts of illegal substances and overpriced milkshakes.

Mom pays no attention to his flirting and claims she could never date a man who smokes more than five cigarettes a day.

I call him Fish Phillet and he calls me Sabella and we get along just fine. In fact, there are days where I'm obscured by Mom's distaste for him and only see a funny father figure in his place, Seahawks jersey and beer belly and all.

"Got any food in here?" I ask him, peeking my head into their fridge. All I see is Heidi's stupid quinoa salad, juice cartons, sausages, hams, and colorful fruits.

"Make a smoothie!" Heidi yells from upstairs.

"I broke the blender!" Phil yells back.

A pause. A door slamming open. Then, "_What?!_"

We both snicker, and she's bounding down the stairs, comb in her hand and Snuggie on. "You _what_?"

"Honey, you and I both know I don't know how to use these things."

"You make smoothies in these, Dad. _Smoothies_. Y'don't cremate corpses in it!" she wails, hands flailing and eyes wide. We're still laughing and she snaps, "How am I gonna make smoothies now? Huh?"

"You'll live," I say.

Heidi lets out a groan. "I'm so done with you, both of you, oh my god."

Phil laughs. "We'll live." He gets up, pats his daughters head, walks out, and she's slamming the fridge door open and closed repeatedly until Phil's yelling, "You're paying for any sauces you break."

I feel her enmity from across the kitchen. "Maybe if you gave me a little money—"

"You see Bella over there? I want you to take a long, hard look at her. See her? She's been working her butt off earning money for almost a year, and oh, you expect money to fall into your pockets with what? Making yourself tea and a salad?"

"And she gets fired, like, every single time—"

"_Who's_ the girl in the kitchen with the paycheck?"

"God, you're _so_ busy pining after her mom that you're literally, like—"

"_Heidi!_"

"_Dad!_"

A little piece of me almost feels complete when I'm here, and not just a feeling that anchors me to where I want to be. But those little gaping holes that everyone feels at night when insomnia strikes fade to the feeblest and faintest of dots that prick instead of consume and heal instead of bleed.

* * *

Allison Brandon invites me to tag along with her and her friends to go to Tanya Denali's party. We started talking in May, and just like that, she's dragging me from house to house because I'm supposedly the only girl she knows that's down to get fucked up on wednesdays, too.

I mean, I try to stay away from anything dirtier than weed. Sometimes it's some molly you get offered in McDonalds on a saturday night to a line they offer you in the washroom when you're fixing your eyeliner. It can build great friendships and multiply what you're subdued to into a force you didn't know you possessed, but it's everywhere and it corrupts and destroys.

Allison's friend Victoria gives me two caps and says, "You're gonna be out of your mind," and it's not even Molly. I'm clenching my jaw and running down the street and my words fly out of my mouth erratically, with no filter and no hesitation. This is meth, speed, caffeine—anything they could find just shoved into a gel capsule.

When we get to Tanya's place, most of the party has migrated into her backyard. I see Riley, arm draped a petite girl with two braids framing her face. She whispers in his ear, the corner of his mouth lifts up into a smile, then his lips are pressing into her neck and they're both so beautiful it makes me want to cry.

Someone's rattling off into my ear.

I'm barely aware of a word they're saying.

My feet migrate me from corner to corner of the party, hugging friends and conversing within no span of time.

And I'm nursing bottled water when suddenly there's hostess Tanya, white teeth and gold hair and enchanting eyes, hugging me and asking if I need anything. She's beautiful.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I'm just on M." I lick my lips a million times. "You ever popped?"

She laughs. It's bright and I imagine her as a sunflower, flames enveloping her face and kissing her smile. She's absolutely glowing. "Girl, of course! How long's it been since you took it?"

"No clue," I say. "Probably, like, like, an hour?"

"You're breathing_ so_ hard," she says.

"It's like I'm vacuuming water!" I exclaim with crazy-wide eyes, taking huge sips to prove it. She's all laughter and smiles and, "I love you on caps," and I'm all, "You're so pretty. Your body is so amazing, and your face, your smile. Everything about you, oh my god."

"Aw, Bella." She hugs me as I go in for one. "You too. You're perfect, babe."

Another pair of arms wrap around us, and we're stumbling and laughing and I'm choking on bliss. I've never felt so much affection and joy all bundled into one embrace and it's got me on chokehold.

"Aw, _babe_! No, you two are literally _so_ bomb!" It's not a girl.

Suddenly we're face to face with Edward. My heart: slinks, stutters, stops, then hammers.

There's so much detail up close. Pine green eyes that remind me of camp songs and the woods when it's twilight, hair a burnt brown tittering on the edge of rusted pennies, the scent of rain on a sunny day and cedar and the Newports Heidi smokes clinging to him.

"Bella." Tanya pokes me in the arm. "Meet this mess, Edward."

He rolls her eyes at her and smirks.

"You have such pretty eyes," I say quickly, eyes still wide and teeth grinding. "Think I fell in love with you when I first, like, saw you and—and you're so hot, holy shit."

Tanya belts out a perfect little laugh and his smirk just grows.

"Yeah?" he asks, amusement evident in his voice.

My heart's the only thing I can hear. "Yeah." I take a deep breath. "And your hair's also really really great, and, and, I like your style a lot, and wow, I need to shut up but like, yeah, you're great."

Tanya has a hand thrown over her face in laughter and Edward's finally laughing with her, never taking his eyes off of mine.

Edward goes, "She's so fucked, holy _fuck_." And Tanya only nods and pats me on the back.

I'm invincible.

"And isn't Tanya like so pretty, though?" I run my fingers through strays of her hair. It's like liquid pools of gold slithering through my fingers, soft caresses gliding over me. "It's so soft." I do it again. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," I tell her, eyes mooned in admiration.

She laughs, pretty and all, and I think I've never wanted anything more than to be as mesmeric as her.

"Loved meeting you, Bella," she says, hugging me once more. "I'll be around, but just add me on Facebook or something, 'kay?"

"Yeah, of course, you too."

And she's gone and being within ten feet of Edward makes me breathe harder than it should.

I'm suddenly turning away and manoeuvring through the party and back inside. It's so warm, and the music is so loud, and my body isn't connected to my head the minute I decide to put my arms around a speaker.

Two cold hands pry me away from it, brisk, but I'm tougher, tugging.

"The fuck..." I mutter, looking up.

Edward's face struggles to hold in barrels of laughter, cheeks and eyes transforming geometrically every millisecond. "I don't think that's a real good idea."

"Everything's a good idea," I laugh.

He bites his lower-lip and says something the music drones out.

"What?"

"You sure you wanna look back at this tomorrow?" he repeats louder, face inches from mine.

"I'm—I'm having so much fun, though!"

"You'll regret doing half the shit—"

"I'm fine," I insist, smiling with all my teeth.

"Okay." He lets go abruptly, nodding, almost like it's a joke.

Something inside me dims like a blow to a candle, almost like a faction of mind dimming. "Okay, now I'm kinda angry."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

He's half-smiling. "Why?"

"You..." I glare at him. "You're killing my vibe."

I shove past him, into the kitchen, where I refill my water bottle four times before my thirst's been quenched.

* * *

I'm pacing up and down the stairs when he crashes into me. Grabs my elbows like, "Whoa," and I let out a squeal. I smell him before I see him.

"Hey, Edward!" I throw my arms around his neck, knees bouncing to the beat of the music.

He doesn't say anything, just placing his hands around my waist and smiling into my neck.

"Sorry I was being so mean earlier." I sigh, letting go of him. His hands don't move. "I'm not mad anymore! I'm actually really happy now."

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah!" I beam. "I drank like five bottles of water right now, it was so so so _so_ insane. Do you ever get really, really thirsty on this? I was literally vacuuming it up!" Our chests are pressed together. "You need to hear my fucking heart right now. It's so fucking crazy."

He laughs under his breath.

A moment of insecurity is all it takes for the vibes to come back, and it's like _the higher you climb, the harder you fall_. "Am I acting like an idiot?"

"You're cute," is all he offers.

I never want to be sober.

I don't know how much time passes between me becoming acutely aware of where his hands are and the warmth on my waist disappearing but I'm falling all over again. He smirks softly and moves past me to get upstairs.

I don't see him for the rest of the night.


	3. Stolen Dance

a couple of things i need to address: sorry for not updating sooner. i'm still in high school! a lot of assignments to do, grades to keep up, etc. i do try and squeeze time in for this story haha, and trust me, i'm not going to give up on this ever. in my profile i have a fanmade banner, an anonymous submission made on tumblr! also a couple links as to who i picture as my bella, for those who messaged and were curious about it.

song: milky chance, stolen dance (flic flac edit)

* * *

**t w o**

* * *

I'm nursing a bottle of beer and a broken heart tonight.

Seth's room smells like weed and cinnamon candles I got him this spring. His fingers aren't easy on me and they press on patches he never touches.

Lips bite into my skin mercilessly and I consume, I take, I surrender.

Bigger arms, sharper eyes, no burden of promise. Nothing I feel the need to believe and nothing dares escape between heavy breaths; his lips, they only trace sensitive skin and breathe into my own.

He first met me at one of Heidi's parties, fall of sophomore year. Seth Clearwater stormed into her house with a black beanie, accompanied by sly smile and pretty words. He picked up my phone from the dock and scrolled through song after song in awe, asking everyone whose music it was, until finally, Vera King pointed at me and laughed.

It only ended in losing my virginty to him in the bathroom twenty minutes afterwards.

He kept me around, and at the time, his sweet words and feather kisses made my heart race and convinced me of better things to come. A private-school kid with nice arms and pounds of drugs and a car any boy could only dream of ever owning. Girls with the same marks I wore dropped subtle hints I was too oblivious to and looked at me with guarded expressions I only rolled my eyes at. But fuck, I was so naive.

He called me babe and fucked a couple other girls through it all, but I was still his babe, and he loved me.

When it's done he smiles and it's just as painful as the one prior. His hair's shorter but it suits him. He also has a tattoo on his shoulder.

I press my fingers against it. It's Greek print, a symbol and a number. "I like this."

He keeps his eyes on the ceiling. "Me, too."

"What's it?"

"Harry."

"Your…granddad?" I ask. "The one in Greece, right?"

"He passed a couple months ago."

Something settles inside of me.

"Oh."

My fingers trace it.

There's something barbed between us thickly. Declaring that he doesn't crave our intimacy anymore can only be said in so many ways.

Silence is one that's just too common.

He only craves being inside me then locking me out, but it's only hours after he's fallen asleep that I realize I'll take anything he's offering.

I've fucked seven since he fucked those four. None of them kissed as sweetly or filled empty spaces, but they each offered a fake sense of forgetfulness when I wasn't left with wanting more and loving whoever inside me when I blanked.

Before Seth, only one boy had shoved his tongue down my throat, and terrible was an understatement to an experience with the rail-thin Asian kid who played hockey at the community centre.

After Seth, it was conquest after conquest.

_ Heard heartbreak does that to a person_.

I don't know who I am. There are four things I'm sure about myself, and all four are that I hate myself uncontrollably. From my head to my ten uneven toes.

I'm infamous, mysterious, promiscuous. I can leave a boy breathless and pride my ignorance but those are only shitty words spewed from girls who've attempted one too many times to befriend me.

But I'm nothing if not helpless and maybe sometimes unreasonably lonely.

* * *

The next day, Seth wants me to come over again.

I tell him to go fuck himself.

It's nothing but a routine.

* * *

"What… are you doing here?"

Heidi's standing outside my door, jeans and hoodie on, white Adidas sneakers covered in dirt and hair in the messiest bun.

"What do you think?" She rolls her eyes. "Come with me to get food."

I groan.

"It's my cheat day!" she snaps.

She does look skinnier. I admire her dedication, but it's obvious she's crabby.

"How much do I have to listen to?"

Heidi glowers.

"What?"

"Shut up," she says. "Go throw something on, and come get pizza with me. It's Friday night. God."

"It's summer."

"School starts in a week, bitch." She shoves me back. "I'll drag you into the car with your robe."

I shrug her grip off. "Leave me alone."

"Edward's gonna be there," she mutters.

"What?"

She smiles. I narrow my eyes.

How in the world does she know?

"What are you—"

"Everyone, and yeah, I mean _a lot_ of people, are talking about the party."

"What—"

"Put some clothes on, I'll tell you the rest." Then, reluctantly, "If you put some clothes on."

"You look like shit," I tell her. But of course, even scrubbed and in boy sneakers, she's flaw-free.

"Pizza waits for, like, no one."

She drives so recklessly I'm prepared to jump out of the car and walk downtown. I'm crowing, "Swerve, swerve, swerve, bitch!" and she's all, "Turn this song up! Fucking love this!"

"Are we turning up or staying in?" she asks.

I slap her thigh. "Slow the fuck down!"

"Come watch movies with me."

"Slow down."

"Well," she says, "that means missing Edward."

I grin. "Yeah? Good plan."

The cars speeds up.

When we get to Dominoes, the only boy there is the Mexican kid behind the counter on his iPhone and pretending to scroll through ancient texts with one eye on Heidi's ass and one on the screen.

She glares at me with every bite she takes, sending texts rapidly and never batting a lash. "This is your fault."

"I'm not complaining."

"Not taking you home 'till we find him, just so you know." Then, she calls for the kid behind the counter. "Hey!"

He looks up with wide eyes. I snort beneath my palm.

"Can you tell my friend she's a complete idiot for ignoring a hot guys advances?"

"Advances," I hiss, kicking her in the shin. She kicks me back, harder. "_Advances_!"

Mexican-boy turns beet red and stutters, "Uh…what?" at least ten times before Heidi waves her hand at him and continues devouring her slice.

"Advances?"

"Say advances again."

"Wanna clue me in?"

She considers it, head cocking to the side. Then shakes her head.

I contemplate choking her with a napkin.

"You got fucked with…I don't even know," she says. "Tanya introduced him to you. You went, like, off the rails and declared some soulmate shi—"

"I didn't!" I wail. "Who told you that?"

"I don't remember."

"Try."

"Who cares?" she mumbles. "Just have my last slice. He's at Vic's."

By the time I've finished chewing her last slice and she's done sending out messages, it's eight. She complains about missing out on free Xanax and finally drones about Phil using her trust fund to buy tickets to a _Pearl Jam_ concert in Portland next month. How sex-deprivation is causing her hair to fall out and how she's gone through half a bottle of Clinique concealer this past week from too much Adderall. _If you can't control your downers, you gotta have some uppers_.

When we get to Victoria's, the minute the door opens, Vic's got me locked tight in a hug and says something into my ear.

I go, "What?" but Victoria just shakes her head, heading towards the living room.

The girl with the braid's I'd glimpsed at back at Tanya's party is sitting beside Riley, long velvet red hair enveloping her smiling face. Tanya's taking a bong hit and Edward's beside her, talking animatedly. It's sort-of cute.

Paul, Liam, Connor, Jacob, Rose, Allison. Some guys from La Push eyeing Heidi and me.

"Okay, okay, wait, I got this," we hear Liam say, beside Edward. His throat clears. "A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti."

"_Sweeney Todd_?" Kate guess.

Liam sighs. "Incorrect."

"_Hannibal_."

"Incorrect."

"_Transpotting_."

"Funny."

"She's hasn't seen _Silence of the Lambs_ yet," Allison says, clucking her tongue.

Riley stares at her blankly. Glares, to be more accurate. "You always ruin everything for me. You know that?"

"Maybe if you outlived the age of thirte—"

"Maybe if you didn't walk around with a stick up your tight ass all the fucking time!"

Edward snorts, bumping fists with him.

"_Helloooo_," Heidi bellows, plopping down beside me. "Missed me?"

"Nope." Rose pops the 'p'. "I was raking up some major points before you showed up again."

"Bella takes it up a notch," Heidi says.

Liam jerks his head at me. "Prove it."

"Okay…." I gnaw on my lower lip. "Give me a line?"

"Sorry, no drugs for you today," Edward says, running his hands through his hair.

Laughter erupts.

My face is on_ fire_.

He offers me a smirk and Tanya says, "Y'know what she means. _Idiot_."

Liam starts. "We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war… our Great Depression is our—"

"Fight club," I say. Easy.

"If you're a rat, then I'm the biggest mutt in the history of the Mafia."

"Donnie Brasko."

We continue the banter.

Tanya and Edward are in their own little bubble all night.

Riley's girl introduces herself as Carmen, from San Jose.

She says she knows me from _somewhere_.

And after we've all taken a couple shots the house just fills with people. Forks High School and private school snobs I learned to tolerate when dating Seth all try and gather as much missing information as they can on life without him. One of them offers me a line. One of them offers me a hug. All of them have lovestruck eyes and captivating smiles and yeah, they're nice girls, but all carved with secondhand damage that brings out a fake side I can't ease myself around.

"You should transfer to _Kings_," a girls with black curls insists. She's sitting on my lap and showing me pictures of Seth's lacrosse game. I don't care.

I don't fucking care.

I take a sip from my drink. "Yeah?"

"Maybe if you guys weren't so distant." She shrugs. "Maybe things could, I don't know…work out."

I never saw distance, or what school we attended, as an issue. He drove the fastest car and his schedule barely interfered. But he had lips on other beautiful girls, prettier and skinnier than me and that was the problem.

Seth comes eventually. Wearing his lacrosse jersey and he keeps his arm around Kate Cope, broody demeanour only blinding the short girl tucked underneath his chin and his wandering hands only perusing pure, untouched, unloved lips. She doesn't want it now, but if she doesn't do it, she won't ever be ready. She thinks it's time.

He leads her to an empty room with an empty smile, all over again.

"_Bella_."

Heidi's in front of me, completely sober, her lips red flushed and bitten and stung, hair messy along her shoulders, and she nods off towards a tall guy by the door. "I'm leaving, but Allison can give you a ride home."

I smile reassuringly. "I can bus."

I just wish she'd see through me sometimes.

But she's completely oblivious.

Her hug is cold, and she parts with a promise of texting me later.

* * *

Kate can barely walks out on two unsteady feet and her face twisted in a grimace. She only smiles when Seth looks at her.

I take a shot.

Kate's nursing a Palm Bay. I don't understand what he sees in her, anyway. She's all soft hair and middle-school drinks and pearl earrings and probably an obsession with young adult novels and bad romantic comedies.

I take another shot.

He only adverts his gaze to her when she laughs. Her head tips back and her locks fall onto his chest, and his eyes never stray the other way. She captures his attention fully doing just that. Her top bears minimum cleavage and I bet she smells like fruity body sprays sold at the mall.

I take another shot.

His fingers trace her hipbone. Tap along it, then higher, and her face flushes. She's melting into his touch, butterflies are imploding, her pulse is quickening, and he knows. He just knows.

I take another shot.

I meet Edward's eyes somewhere between gulping down my chase and fruitlessly avoiding Kate's probing gaze, now burning into my face.

She probably knows, because everybody knows, yet the funny thing is, she has no clue.

Edward nods at me and I nod back. Then tips his head with a half-smile, a gesture that just beckons the words, _Come over here_.

I sit beside him on the couch. Tanya's finally outside, smoking a cigarette on the balcony, and he's running his hands through his hair again.

"Why are you so insecure?" is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

I straighten my back. "What?" I laugh. "I'm not."

"No?"

He's smirking with knowing eyes.

"I'm not insecure."

"You know…" he says. "Kate doesn't really like him."

He never takes his eyes off mine. And maybe I missed their hue a little.

"You think I don't?"

"You know." He doesn't sound convinced.

I'm looking at shadows. He thinks I'm seeing a picture.

_ He_ has no clue.

"Why do you care?"

"We had a thing," Edward tells me, unabashed. I raise my brows in surprise and he smiles wryly at his lap. "She doesn't like him."

I stare.

"She likes me."

I continue staring, until I'm finally cracking up.

He's laughing with me. "Why're you fucking laughing?"

"You're really full of yourself," I say. "No offence."

He shrugs. "It's not—look, it's more like…something factual. She's only doing this shit tonight to get a reaction from me."

"What?"

One lazy sidelong glance at my shell-shocked face, and he's smirking again.

I look back at them. Perception change fixates my focus on something else entirely. Where _her_ gaze is settled most of the night.

Edward draws his arm up, and for a split second I think he's going to run his fingers through that mess of hair, but instead, he wraps it around my shoulder and crushes my body to his.

I squeal.

He smiles.

"Why—why'd you bother telling me…that?" I ask quietly.

"Why not?"

"You—I mean don't you, after that party—"

"After that party?"

I scowl. "Let me finish my sentence." He laughs under his breath, and I continue with, "I wouldn't be that fond of me if—"

"You take that shit too seriously," he interrupts. "You were hilarious, so shut up."

"Funny, or stupid?"

He mashes his lips together, finally trying to suppress a grin, and I get no answer.

"See!"

"Didn't say anything!" he says defensively.

I try to shrug out of his embrace, but he just tightens the grip he has around me, and it's silent after that. Partygoers make small talk or drunkenly converse with us, and we're nodding. A couple girls ask me about Seth, and my only response is a shrug and a couple swigs of Edward's warm beer. My body is drunkenly warm, glowing, and tittering at the very touch of our proximity.

Eventually, somewhere between my cheek against Edward's shoulder and his body shaking with uncontrollable laughter at my drunken observations of King girls, Kate gets off of Seth's lap, who's dead-on glaring at Edward.

My palms start sweating and I get that queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I don't have to glance up at Edward to know he's looking back.

"Can you take me home?" I mumble, tugging uselessly one the sleeve of his jacket.

He's still for a couple seconds, and I keep my eyes trained on the wall. He finally lets out a breath. "Yeah."

He gets up, manoeuvring through the thick crowd of people so swiftly I almost lose him. I wobble up, barely sparing myself another image of Seth brooding with his crew, eyes on Edward's stiff back and crazy hair.

"Slow down!" I yell, doubting he can hear me. I grab my jacket on the coat pile by the closet, shrugging it on flimsily before reaching Edward outside the apartment. He's patting his pockets and suddenly pulls out a pack of Newports.

"Jesus," I say, smoothing my hair down, slightly out of breath. He raises a brow. "I can barely walk. What's the fucking rush?"

He rolls his eyes. "You're completely wasted."

I blink up at him, at a complete loss of words. Gone is the sympathetic joker, back is the apathetic prick.

"_You're cute_."

"_She's so fucked, holy fuck_."

A couple of girls stumble out of the apartment, and he pulls me closer to him to avoid getting trampled. The gesture humbles me for a couple seconds, until we both spot Kate leaning against the door, peering up at Edward.

I hear my heart roaring in my ears.

"Can we talk?" Her voice is raspy.

"No." Smirk.

Her eyes harden. "Edward." And he just sighs, obviously perplexed.

She's glowering at me now, like, _You can leave_.

"I have to get her home," he mutters, putting a cigarette between his lips. "So talk."

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, shaky and pale. I almost feel twinge of guilt for her, until she opens her mouth. "Call me when you're home."

It's dead silent. Then—

His face draws into the darkest look, jaw tightened and nostrils flared. "Fuck that."

"I—"

"Go fuck Liam while you're at it too," he says with a sickening smile. "Heard he likes tight blondes. Although I'm pretty sure your right leg misses your left."

I've never seen someone so completely red in the face, yet have never heard so much loathing in the weight of someones words.

"Stop," I mumble, grabbing his arm with both my hands. "Really, let's just go."

Kate's trying to hold in tears, and his indifference pierces through her. It's too tense to hang around for another minute.

"Meet me downstairs," I snap before storming off.

* * *

"So…." I start, turning my head to the side. His profile, sharp jaw and lips wrapped around his cigarette, have barely acknowledged to have heard me, but I know he's all ears. "Guess she really did get a reaction outta you."

He only passes me his cigarette. I accept it with a small sigh.

He lets me finish it. When I toss it out, I hold in the last bit for as long as I can, the head rushes starting with a warm tingling in my toes and suddenly I'm bolder than I was a second ago. Maybe even a little more tipsy.

"Do you like her?"

Silence.

"Edward."

Silence.

I sigh, drawing my legs up and hugging them to my chest.

He drops me off at the bus stop, handing me all the quarters he has in his wallet.

"I don't need ch—"

The look he gives me cuts my words off. He's done with everyone's shit. And I just for tonight, I completely understand why.

"Thanks."

I won't get out until he replies.

And he does.

"Get out of my car," he finally says, a joking smile finally gracing his lips.

And I do.

We colored somewhere out of the lines today.


End file.
